


Buffalo

by RAAMIsABeast



Series: Dragons And Friends [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Dragon Riders, Soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAAMIsABeast/pseuds/RAAMIsABeast
Summary: Marissa was expecting a valiant old War Beast, weathered by time and exertion. What she got was... not what one idealistic young girl such as herself would call a valiant War Beast. A War Beast he sure was, though perhaps a little more on the lanky side. Instead of feathery down or fur, Buffalo was merely scaled.
Series: Dragons And Friends [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1139099
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Buffalo

Marissa followed her new superior into the courtyard, much larger than the courtyard of the entrance examination Hall in her home country, and much more sophisticated too. Because of its space, it had more room for the nessessary items one required. Thick wooden perches, like hanging stations made for giants, worked hard and yet still stand up to the abuse, were scattered around the edges.

In the middle, a centrepiece, stood the hand chiseled statue of the Great One. It captured the Great One's majesty and raw power perfectly, but nothing could compare to ever meeting the real thing. No one had seen the Great One for many decades though. Perhaps it has silently passed on, for legend told heartily of its ancient age and life earned wisdom.

"Every time you are due to fly, be it training or a mission, you kiss your fore and middle finger, and press them to the Great One's chest."

Her superior, a shorter, older, battle weary woman, suddenly spoke. She turned her head to look at Marissa, one eye a dark brown, the other glazed grey. An old scar decorated across her left grey one, and Marissa knew she was blinded by the force of it. So far, she hadn't fallen on her own blunt ways and randomly asked what happened. Father would be proud.

"Yes, Commander."

The Commander smiled, a girlish, wide smile.

"You're gonna fit right in, young one. Come. You have someone waiting to meet you."

They walked around the statue, bowing their heads in respect, and continued around the foreboding stone fortress overlooking the courtyard.

So it seemed the courtyard extended the entire way around the fort! How exciting! It made for the perfect race track, then. She smiled to herself, buzzing with excitement the closer they got to their next destination.

"Now, we weren't expecting a new solider to join our ranks so soon, and so there's only one available. His name is Buffalo, and he's grumpy, but really he's a soft one. Much more mellow, too. Makes for a good starting ride."

Buffalo... so he would be furred? Or perhaps covered with feathery down! And big, very big, thick with muscle and a large curved set of horns! Would he be brown, too? Have dark eyes?

Marissa was expecting a valiant old War Beast, weathered by time and exertion. What she got was... not what one idealistic young girl such as herself would call a _valiant_ War Beast. A War Beast he sure was, though perhaps a little more on the lanky side. Instead of feathery down or fur, Buffalo was merely scaled.

His scales looked keeled, rough and abrasive. So glad they weren't expected to ride bareback any more.

And he wasn't brown either. He was a dark navy blue, with pale green eyes and a lot of scars.

All in all, he looked like the sort of Dragon one would throw as scraps to the newbies as a test. Nothing worth mentioning you ride, but good enough to get your bearings.

Her superior laughed at her crestfallen face.

"You all have too high an expectation. Your expectations are based of the Kings High Guard's Steeds, well bred but fat and lazy with boredom. This, our old Buffalo here, is a wild caught progeny, abandoned by mother or left orphaned by poachers. He is no inbred pedigree who has a bad back after s couple of years."

She chortled again, and Buffalo seemed to join her, blowing a harsh front of air through his flaring nostrils three times in quick succession.

"He snorts a lot too."

Marissa tensed when the large beast got up and came into the light. He had horns alright, straight, normal ones. One of them had been snapped off, and was missing the top quarter.

"He won't grow that back no more. Too old for that sorta thing."

Commander Shipley smiled and pat the old male on his bristled nose, crows feet crinking st the slightly ticklish feel of the tips running over her palm.

"We will be having a flying drill in an hour. I expect you and Buffalo to be there."

With that, she left the young girl to her staring, and Buffalo to his standing.

"You..."

Marissa slowly put a hand on Buffalos scales, felt the blood pumping through veins just below the surface. She took in his face, unable to drop her notions of a War Beast to accept the old one in front of her. He wasn't solid navy blue, she found out. Very faintly, each broad scale was outlined with a faint teal speckling, with little appearances of yellow and even white amongst the pattern.

One side of his face looked like a larger Dragon had tried to take off his eye and his cheek, large indentations curving from the top of his head, down the right in two parallel tracks of teeth marks, ending in nasty punctures across the underside of his bottom jaw. No damage to his eye though, because it wasn't grey or unmoving.

Like this, touching skin to skin, she could feel the edge of Buffalo's consciousness lightly brush the boundaries of her mind, there but not, like clothes upon her body. Easily forgiven for touching.

_Buffalo._

A try, seeing if he would accept her small prod at his mind. Silence grew in the air around them, racking up the tension growing inside her.

_Yes._

Was the reply, a thrum of deep noise, carried through her mind to reach into her. He accepted her.

All she had to do was get over her disappointment.

***

Buffalo's saddle was heavy, extra padded to prevent it wearing away as fast from his keeled scales, and so Marissa struggled to heft the fine treated leather from its hook on the stable wall onto the waiting back of its Dragon user. To his credit, Buffalo was patient and understanding, giving her a low grunt in acknowledgement at finally bringing it over.

Saddle settled on, she gently tapped him to stand, crawling under to make sure she got the straps connected to their correct companions. In The future, she needn't do this, hopefully. At least Buffalo stood taller than her draught horses st home, so she could fit under much easier. He didn't demand a smell enhancing hay bed either, merely some fire scorched rocks he could reheat over and over. Even so, he still had a stroke scent underneath himself, coming from two twin rows of scent glands lining each side of the belly, that would rub against rocks or foliage as the Dragon walked, a scent trail for them or others.

"There we are."

A small adjustment of the stirrups, and then Marissa was scrambling up onto hid back with assistance from a helpfully bend back leg as a boost.

Unfortunately, sitting on a saddle meant there was no skin to scale contact, and so she had go hope Buffalo's hearing was as good as a young Dragons, to hear her when they fly.

Luckily, riding a Dragon is just like riding an overly large Draught, with an easy to find rhythm. No limp either, which was very good.

Buffalo walked them to the front of the courtyard, where he bowed his head to press a nose nudge to the Great One's forehead, while Marissa kissed her first two fingers and touched it's heart.

He grunted, and then moved on past the gates of the fortress to join the ranks of Riders waiting outside. Not late. Phew.

"Now, this is just a training exercise, but we should be vigilant. The Wardens have spotted Sacrintine activity in the area."

"Yes, Commander!"

"Good. Let us fly."

With that, the squadron all took off at the same time, in a simple arrow formation. The Commander took point, and Buffalo sidled comfortably into the end of the right wing. Each wing beat was smooth and controlled, easy to settle into.

***

The training exercise was a success, and rather unexciting. No Sacrintine soldiers showed up, no one fell off their Dragon and had to be saved. Nada.

Until the return trip.

It all happened so suddenly that Marissa felt a swell of gratitude that she was riding a veteran who knew his stuff. One moment, she had been near dozing off on his back, the next they were freefalling, spiralling down fast and urgent. She screamed, and behind her a Dragon roared in reply. It was as of the world came alive, flames flaring, wings slapping, flesh tearing and people screaming.

Buffalo evened out, wings beating the air fast, intent on getting out of the ambush zone. Sparing a glance behind them, Marissa cried out at the horror. Sacrintine soldiers had ambushed them, ripping into human and Dragon alike. The riders and dragons of the rival Riders were kitted for war, rather than the minimal armour of the training party.

Two broke off after killing the Commanders Dragon, snarling and heading for them.

"Buffalo!"

She clung to the front of the saddle, reins abandoned. A faint clink of metal and she watched the leather of the reins fall. Freed his mouth, then, in case they needed to fight.

He turned mid wing flap and shot out a flare of flames, right in the face of the faster, closer Dragon. A cry of alarm and it fell back a little, shaking out the effects of being temporarily blinded. The second one came at them faster now, claws gleaming with metal tipped additions, sharp and deadly.

Instead of facing them head on, Buffalo once again nose dived, wings tucked tight to his body, legs pulled in. He aimed for a break in the canopy of the forest, locked onto target like a bird of prey zeroing in on a mouse.

Marissa managed to touch the scales of his neck just above the edge of the saddle.

_Buffalo!_

_Hold on._

_You_ _can't_ _fly through trees!_

He snorted, shifting his wings, angling his dive. He wasn't stopping...

And then he did, throwing out his wings spread as wide as possible, jerking them from a breathtaking dive into a near standstill.

Their attacker didn't respond quick enough, roaring as the old Dragon turned to smack into them, jaws latching onto armoured neck and going right through it. Claws snagged on claws, and tails winded together. Wings beat at the same time, keeping one another afloat even as they snarled and slashed and tried to bite the others throat.

And then the second one caught up, swooping around and slamming into Buffalo's side, massive jaws gripping near the base of his neck, one large clawed hand squishing Marissa into the thick saddle. She wheezed another scream, felt her arm break, and knew this was it.

The Dragons growled at one another, and she passed out.

***

Waking was unexpected and agonising. Her arm throbbed, swung with the gentle swaying of a flying Dragon, legs burning from being held in an awkward position due to the strapped on stirrups. Blood caked her face, dried and metallic, from where her head had fallen into a Dragons neck. Groggily, she opened her eyes, blinking away the bleariness to see around her.

Surrounded by Sacrintine soldiers... But she was on Buffalo. Had he surrendered?

There were a few others too, forced to carry tied up Rider captives, wounded and muzzled.

A Sacrintine Steed turned to look at her, hot breath stinking of raw meat and fresh blood, grunting after.

She wasn't a threat because of her injuries.

_Rest now._

Buffalo murmured through their connection, her cheek on his neck.

 _You'll_ _need_ _your_ _strength_ _to meet_ _the_ _Sacrintine_ _General._


End file.
